


I'm Just Tired, Don't Worry

by mechaniicalcow



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 21:58:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14839904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechaniicalcow/pseuds/mechaniicalcow
Summary: At first this fic was gonna be about internalized homophobia (the first half of it is) but it ended up with me projecting being sad a lot so it's pretty much Aleks being sad and not accepting himself and then just general bad mental health. Also I didnt even bother to edit or read this before I posted it so sorry for any errors and also for the fact that it's probably not that good.





	I'm Just Tired, Don't Worry

Maybe it was when he started to grow out his hair.

Or maybe it was when he got more caring and decided to get a dog.

Whatever it was about him he was liked it.

He wanted to deny it. Deny it at all costs. He wasn't allowed to feel this way. Deny. Deny. Deny. 

Maybe it was the amount of time they spent so close together on that couch.

Or maybe it was how nice the Puerto Ricans skin looked after spending so much time out in the sun now that they were in California.

No that couldn't be it. None of it could. He wasn't allowed to feel this way, right? He couldn't.

This week the Russian skipped work.

“Out of sight, out of mind” he told himself over and over, saying he was sick as an excuse to get out of work.

Laying in his bed, swiping his hand up from his face and into his hair, trying to push the sweat away.

The air conditioning was out again.

He didn't know what to do with the free time, his mind going back to james even though he wasn't at the warehouse at the moment.

It's not love, right? A man can't love another man, it's not acceptable. Right?

He got up, his pets following him out of the room. 

He needed a shower or some food to get his mind off of things. Pets first though.

Cat and dog in tow he walked through his kitchen to the pantry.

Dog first since Mishka was jumping all over his legs.

Food bag grabbed and poured into the dog bowl, followed by water into the second bowl.

Can of cat food opened and poured into the cat bowl, celia slinked around aleks legs to start eating immediately while he got water and poured it into her second bowl.

Animals fed.

Does he need to be fed? Himself? Hes tired. Doesnt wanna deal with it.

Maybe later.

Or would he fall asleep again and ignore his stomach.

“Get back on track, shower, get some things done, be productive” he tries to remind himself, but he's tired, really tired.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the just being alive part of everything.

Is there something wrong with himself? Probably a lot of things but he doesn't want to deal with it.

He stands in the kitchen repeating to himself mentally “Food or shower? Food or shower? Food or shower?” but the thought of his bed is so comforting. More sleep, that's what he wants, but he hasn't showered in three days and smells terrible. Did he even eat dinner last night? He can't remember.

Food isn't that important any ways, right? He needs water though, god its so hot in his house.

He pulls a glass out of one of his cabinets and takes it to the fridge, filling the cup about half way and chugging it all.

He was really thirsty.

Shower time.

He walked into the bathroom, took his underwear off and turned the shower water on, warm temperature.

He stepped into the shower, the water already warm.

He stood under the downpour and rubbed his face in circles with his hands, not really thinking about anything, just zoning out while looking at some shampoo bottle in his shower.

He snapped out of it, suddenly aware of how tired he was for the billionth time again today, yet zoning out instantly again, snapping out of his thoughts again in a moment, not even able to remember what he was thinking about.

He rubbed his face again and turned to the faucets handles for the temperature. He put one hand on them and started slowly turning it to the left, raising the temperature a bit.

It was hot, but didn't hurt that much.

He turned it a bit more, now that stung.

His skin was starting to turn red from the burning sensation.

He kept turning it past the point of where it really hurt, his skin felt like it was boiling.

His body was telling him to stop but he didnt care, he needed this.

He kinda wanted to cry, not from the shower but from his own thoughts.

Why was he doing this to himself? Maybe he kinda deserved it. At least he thought he did.

He stood under the burning water for another moment before grabbing the faucet handle again and suddenly turning it to the coldest temperature that it would allow.

His whole body convulsed and shivered at the instant change and he backed up a step.

He stood in the water looking at nothing for another moment, just letting out a few tears.

He wished he could cry more. He doesn't feel good but his body won't let him cry. Hes sad.

He inhaled roughly a few times, his chest feeling tight before he turned the faucet off and stepped out.

He quickly dried himself off and walked back to his room, slipping into another pair of underwear.

He grabbed his deodorant, quickly applying some to his armpits before placing it back on his night stand.

He checked the time.

4:07 P.M.

He had been up for just over an hour.

He sighed and sat back on his bed, laying down and falling to sleep again.


End file.
